


Changed

by lovingsmutandfluff



Series: Changed [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Anal Sex, Bondage, Dark, Death, Forced Orgasm, Forced Relationship, Gags, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Rape/Non-con Elements, Wincest - Freeform, not really a happy ending for Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 16:55:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1395259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovingsmutandfluff/pseuds/lovingsmutandfluff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has an obsession. That obsession being Sam. If anyone gets to close, Dean kills them, because Sammy...Sammy is his and his alone.</p><p>Sam is on the run, trying to keep away from Dean, who would do anything to get his baby brother back. And Sam's luck is about to run out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changed

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Tumblr for giving me this idea. It's dark and twisted, but hopefully good. I can see a sequel being made for this, but I am not doing anything like that right now. Also, this fic was supposed to be 1,000 to 1,500 words. As you can see...that didn't really happen (sorry if it is kinda long).  
> All mistakes are my own.  
> I don't own anyone or anything.

Sam’s been running for God knows how long now. How long _has_ it been? Weeks? Months? Every day blended in with the next and all Sam knew was that he _had to get away_.

He had to get away from Dean.

Sam should’ve seen it coming. He should have known. And he blamed himself every day for not seeing the changes in Dean.

Sam should’ve seen the looks that Dean gave him. Sam should’ve seen the sneers and growls that Dean gave to anyone who got too close. Sam should’ve paid better attention to the disappearances of anyone who ever had a relationship with him.

Maybe Sam _did_ notice…but he just rejected the idea that Dean, _his brother_ , wanted him, especially in ways brothers never should.

It didn’t matter now. Sam was running and he couldn’t stop.

 

Sam walked in the new motel room he had gotten. He had to catch his breath. The past week had worn him out.

His new phone started to ring and he looked down at it fearfully. That was until he saw Bobby’s number, the only number saved on the phone. The only number he knew by heart.

Being a friend of the Winchester’s since they got involve in the hunting life, Bobby was the only one that Sam could trust.

He answered his phone. “Bobby.”

“Hey, boy.” The familiar voice said back. “How are ya?”

“OK, for now. Tired. I’m in a new motel room.”

“Good.” Bobby said. It sounded like he sighed in relief, but Sam wasn’t about to ask about it. “Any word from…?”

“No. I haven’t seen Dean since I left Nebraska.”

“Right. You know you could always come down to my place.” Bobby offered. “Lay low there.”

“And get you killed too? No.” Sam scoffed out, bitterer than he meant. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Bobby. I’m tired. I can’t think straight…I…”

“You don’t have explain yourself to me, son. I know.” Bobby’s voice grew soft. “As much as it hurts, you need to stay on the move and stay three steps ahead.”

“I know, Bobby.” Sam murmured softly. “Keep me updated if you find any sort of trace of him?” Sam asked. He knew that Bobby hadn’t had that much luck lately, and that worried the both of them.

“Always, Sam. You get some rest.”

“Alright. Good-bye Bobby.”

“Bye, Sam.”

Sam hung the phone up and shoved it in his pocket, collapsing on the bed and closing his eyes.

 

 _Sam walked through the apartment he shared with Jess. The interview was Monday._ Monday. _He was so close to a full ride. So close to his dream of a picket white fence, an average 9 to 5 job. Kids running around the yard._

_And he wanted that life with Jess._

_“Jess! I’m back!” He called. He could hear the shower running in the bathroom and he smiled, picking up a cookie from a batch that Jess had made and left out for Sam._

_Sam walked into the bedroom and the cookie dropped out of his hand._

_“Dean? What…what are you…?” Then he took in the whole room. Red was everywhere. It was almost like someone bathed the room in it._

_And in the middle of the room, right in front of Dean, was Jess’ corpse, barely recognizable. “No…no you’re…no…you shouldn’t have found me.” Sam was choking back tears that threatened to spill the longer he looked at Jess’ body. “How did you find me? You were in jail. You didn’t know where I was.”_

_“I got out early, Sammy. You, of all people, should know nothing can hold me for long. And how did I find you? Well…” Dean smirked, stepping over the body and over to Sam, who was backing up into a wall. “…I have my resources.”_

_“No.” Sam said, wishing his voice sound stronger. “Dean, no.”_

_“Sammy. You should’ve known that I would be looking for you. That I would want my baby brother back.” Dean’s smile was like a wolf and it made Sam feel sick to his stomach. “Sam, you’re mine. **Mine**. No one else’s. Surely not that blonde skank.”_

_“Her name was Jess!” Sam yelled, growing angry from Dean’s words. “She was my girlfriend! I loved her!” Sam threw a punch at Dean, and Dean caught it, twisting Sam around and pinning him to the wall. “Damnit, Dean!” Sam cried. “You didn’t have to kill her!”_

_“But I did.” Dean growled. “I had to kill her Sammy. She was in the way. In between you and me. And I can’t have that.”_

_“No.” Sam cried out, the tears now falling down his face. “No.”_

_“We can be together, Sam. Just you and me against the world.” He pressed further against Sam, and Sam could feel Dean’s half hard cock against his ass._

_“No!” Sam shouted. He tugged out of Dean’s grip and sent a kick to his gut before taking off into the night._

 

Sam’s eyes opened and he blinked, staring up at the ceiling. He wiped his face, and wasn’t surprised to find tears wetting his cheeks.

It wasn’t the first time he’d dreamt about something Dean had done.

It wouldn’t be the last.

Sam sat up and looked over at the clock. 4 in the morning.

Time to find an open bar.

 

Sam drank silently, ignoring any motion any of the few patrons made to try to talk to him.

He downed shot after shot, beer after beer, praying it would be enough to get him drunk, so he didn’t have to think straight. That was when he noticed movement to his left. Over by the pool table.

He turned and his blood ran cold.

It was Dean.

 

No. He had lost Dean in Nebraska. He couldn’t be here. Bobby would’ve called him, and last Sam checked, he had no missed calls.

Sam turned back to the bar counter and casually pulled out his phone, keeping a watchful eye on Dean’s figure, owning the people at the pool table.

He got Bobby’s number and texted him that Dean was in the bar he was at.

 _Text back soon, Bobby. Please._ Sam silently begged.

When his phone did buzz, Sam looked at the text anxiously.

_Can you get out? Has he seen you?_

Sam texted back no, he couldn’t get out. Dean was in front of the entrance, and he wasn’t sure if Dean has seen him.

That was when Dean pressed beside him, grinning like a wolf.

 

“Sammy. I can’t believe it. You’re here too. God, I’ve been looking all over for you. Who you texting?”

Sam’s blood turned to ice hearing Dean’s voice. If Dean knew he was texting Bobby…Bobby was a goner.

“No one.” Sam said, shoving his phone in his pocket.

“Sammy…” Dean said, smile dropping slightly.

“It’s nothing Dean.” Sam said, turning to face his brother. “Do you really want to cause a scene in here?”

“Hey, I won’t cause anything as long as you don’t.” Dean smirked. Sam had to force the nausea he was feeling down at Dean’s smile. “I’m going to play some more pool. Then he can hit the road and grab your stuff from the motel.”

“Dean.” Sam said, hand gripping his glass so tightly, he threatened to break the glass. “Please, don’t do this to me.” Sam said, looking down sorrowfully. “Please.”

“Sammy…I love you. I want you. I _need_ you. You’re mine.”

“I’m not.” Sam said, voice growing firm.

“You are.” Dean growled.

Sam breathed out through his nose sharply, and got up.

“Where are you going?” Dean asked, annoyance in his voice.

“Restroom.” Sam bit out. “Unless I’m not allowed to take a leak without being under your scrutiny.”

“If you act like that…” Dean let the threat hang in the air. Sam’s jaw set, and he walked off to the bathroom.

 

When he got inside, he closed the door and locked it, leaning heavily against the metal door. The angry façade he had with Dean left, and was replaced with a small sense of fear.

Oh, god, he was so fucked.

Sam pulled out his cell phone and dialed Bobby’s number, walking away from the door.

“Sam! Are you OK? Are you hurt? What’s going on? Where are you?” Bobby’s voice sounded alert, but somewhat garbled. That’s what you get for calling the guy at four in the morning.

“Bobby…Bobby…slow down.” Sam hissed out in a low voice. “I’m in the restroom right now in the bar. And I bet you that Dean is waiting outside of the door right now for me.” Sam muttered, walking to the far corner of the small room. “Bobby…I’m fucked. I can’t go anywhere. He has me. I don’t think I can escape this time.”

“Sam, calm down…has he done anything?” Bobby asked.

“No…but I don’t know if he might. I don’t know anymore, Bobby.” Sam said, panic rising.

“Sam, everything will be fine. You’re gonna be OK.” Bobby assured.

“How, Bobby? Dean’s out there. He’s gonna do anything to get me.” Sam said.

“Just calm down. Deep breaths, Sam. Tell me, where are you?” Bobby asked calmly, but urgently.

“I’m in Larry’s Bar. It’s just outside of…” Sam trailed off as pounding started on the door.

“Sam, you OK in there?” Dean called from the other side.

Sam’s eyes grew fearfully and his heart felt like it stopped beating.

“I’m fine, Dean! I’ll be out soon!” Sam called. “Larry’s Bar, just outside of Boise.” Sam said. “Bobby, I can’t stay here…and I can’t keep the phone. Dean’ll know and you’ll…”

“Sam! Open the door! Now!” Dean called, wiggling the handle.

“Hold on, Dean!” Sam choked out, terror growing in him again.

“Sam?” Bobby asked. “Sam, hold on, boy. People are coming for you. Hang up. Get rid of the phone. I’m gonna alert hunters. We’re coming for you.”

 

Sam whimpered and hung up, breaking the phone and flushing the remains down the toilet. He opened the door to see Dean staring angrily at him, and Sam moved over to the sink, washing his hands even if he didn’t actually need to.

“God, Dean…can’t let a guy use the restroom in peace. I was taking a shit. And those tend to take longer than just peeing.” Sam said, looking back at his brother. “Don’t be mad. Please. Don’t take it out on someone.”

“Who said I would, Sam?” Dean growled angrily, arms folding across his chest. Sam looked down at the running water and turned the faucet off, drying his hands and leaving out of the restroom with Dean.

 

Sam and Dean spent about another half hour, playing pool and drinking. Dean growled and got in the way of anyone looking like they might make a pass on Sam, and Sam just watched helplessly.

After Dean won another round of pool, he took his winnings and pocketed them happily.

“Let’s go, Sammy. We’re hitting the road.”

Sam remembered Bobby’s promise.

“You sure you don’t want to do another round of pool?” Sam asked. “Maybe a couple of beers…like old times.” _That_ hurt to remember.

“We can do those things later, Sam. Right now…I just want to be with you.”

Sam dreaded what those words implied, and he opened his mouth to try to come up with another excuse. Dean glared at him, and Sam shut up.

“We’re leaving.” Dean said coldly. Sam nodded numbly and followed after Dean, out of the bar. Dean gripped Sam’s arm, and Sam feebly tried to pull away. “Stop, Sam. You’re not leaving me alone again.”

“Dean, stop this.” Sam begged, tugging again. Dean’s grip became tighter, and Sam winced, knowing there would be bruises later.

“Sammy, it’s my job to take care of you. Always has been, always will be. I intend to take care of my baby brother.” Dean said, dragging Sam to the Impala.

 

A familiar sense of _home_ washed through Sam as he saw the sleek, black car, and he forced back the sob that wanted to escape.

“This isn’t taking care of me, Dean!” Sam begged, trying to pry Dean’s hand off. Dean grabbed Sam’s other hand, and Sam cried out in fear. He tried to use his legs to kick at Dean, but Dean spun the two of them and pinned Sam to the trunk of a car.

“You listen here, Sam. You are mine and mine alone. If I wanna go somewhere, you say ‘yes, sir’. If I want you to jump, you ask ‘how high’. If I want to fuck you, you bend for me without complaint. I will take care of you, because you’re my baby brother. And I will have you how I want. Because. You. Are. Mine. No one else is worthy.”

“No!” Sam cried out, bucking against Dean, trying to push his off.

Dean growled, frustrated, and suddenly Sam felt a needle in his neck.

Dean pushed the plunger down and watched at the sedative go into Sam’s bloodstream, making him sleepy and sluggish within the minute.

“W-what was that?” Sam asked, trying to stay awake.

“Sedative. I figured there might be a chance you fought me, so I came prepared.” Dean half-led/half-dragged Sam’s body to the Impala and managed to get him in the backseat. He bound Sam’s wrists behind his back and he bound Sam’s ankles and thighs.

“Now you won’t be able to leave.” Dean smiled, and gave a pat to Sam’s arm. Sam gave a small whimper, barely a sound, and lost consciousness.

 

_“Sammy, I’m sorry…” Dean said sadly, collapsing in a chair. Sam was on him in an instant, helping Dean clean out his cuts and wounds. There was a particularly nasty one on Dean’s left arm, and Sam focused on it, thinking about how the cut looked familiar._

_“What? Dean…what is it?” Sam asked, leaning the wound._

_“Dad…he…the monster…it got him, Sammy.” Dean said sorrowfully._

_Sam stopped cold in his tracks._

_“What?” Sam asked, voice low, disbelieving._

_“The monster got Dad, Sammy. I got the monster, but…it was too late.” Dean said._

_Sam’s throat seemed to close and he was having trouble processing what Dean was telling him._

_“It’s just you and me, Sam. Gotta make sure to take care of each other.” Dean said._

_Sam nodded, the letter accepting Sam to Stanford feeling like a boulder in his pocket. He couldn’t leave Dean now. Not with Dad gone._

_Sam finished cleaning Dean up, and Dean started shedding clothing, walking to the bathroom. “Gonna take a quick shower. Then we’ll figure out what to do.” Dean promised._

_“OK.” Sam nodded, watching Dean enter the bathroom and shut the door._

_Sam started picking up Dean’s clothes when a bloody knife fell out of Dean’s jacket. It was Dean’s knife, and the blood on it was fresh. Too fresh for comfort._

_A bad feeling grew in the pits of Sam’s stomach. Sam started looking through the rest of Dean’s stuff, and his eyes widened in horror as he realized what he was stumbling upon._

_Then the pieces fell into place, and Sam connected the puzzle._

_Dean was killing people. And not just any people. Dean was killing anyone that was getting close to Sam. Because Dean wanted Sam for himself._

_And Dean killed Dad, probably because Dad was trying to stop Dean, and he had covered it up. The slice on Dean’s arm came from his knife, to try to keep Sam unaware. Sam forced the bile to stay down and he called the cops and Bobby._

_They were at the motel by the time Dean got out of the bathroom._

_“Why Bobby?” Sam cried bitterly, long after Dean had been taken away. “Why’d he kill those people? Why kill Dad?”_

_“Some people are just twisted.” Bobby said. “Some are born with it, some have a tiny seed that gets planted in them, and it grows. Can’t help it. Dean turned out to be one of those people. C’mere, son. Dean can’t hurt anyone else anymore.”_

When Sam woke, his head was cloudy. He didn’t want to go back to sleep, if he was going to be plagued by nightmares, but sleep sounded so appealing to Sam at the moment with how his head felt.

Sam stared upwards, completely confused. It took Sam a few moments to realize that he was staring up at a ceiling. To be more specific, the Impala ceiling. It was well into the morning and when he looked further, he saw the sky was a bright blue.

“Mmhh.” Sam gave a soft moan, trying to get his appendages to work. He couldn’t. Why couldn’t he?

“Hey, Sammy. You awake?” The familiar voice floated to his head and Sam’s head rolled around until he could see Dean.

“De’…it’s you.” Sam said, a gurgle in his throat. It was Dean. Why was Dean here? Wasn’t Dean supposed to be somewhere else? Everything was too confusing, so Sam shut his eyes.

“Drug still working through you, huh?” Dean chuckled. Drug? He was drugged?

“Wh-what…I don’t…what’s going on? Why can’t I move De’? Where are we goin’?” Sam asked, head pounding as he tried to think. His eyes opened again, and he looked up at Dean.

“We’re just going somewhere secluded. Just the two of us. OK?” Dean said.

“Oh. But…why?” Sam asked, brain starting to focus a little more.

“Because I want to.” Dean said. “Are you hungry? We could stop somewhere.”

“I…am I hungry?” Sam asked, more to himself. He closed his eyes and tried to sort his brain out.

That was when everything started to come back to him.

 

“Oh, god.” Sam said, eyes shooting open. “Dean…De’, what the fuck are you doing? Let me go.” Sam said, trying to sound as forceful as he could.

“ _And_ there’s the Sammy I know.” Dean said. “How you feeling? How’s your head?” Dean asked.

“How am I doing? Dean, you tied me up!” Sam said, trying to twist out of the bonds. They were tight and unyielding. “You kidnapped me. You’ve practically killed everyone I’ve ever cared for.”

Sam watched Dean’s jaw set and suddenly, Dean turned up the music playing from one of the cassettes.

“Dean! Dean!” Sam called. His voice was drowned out by Led Zeppelin and he groaned, head dropping on the seat.

 

Sam lost track how many miles they seem to be driving. Dean just kept his eyes on the road, mumbling along to each song that he played.

Sam’s stomach growled, and he realized how hungry he actually was. He was thirsty too.

“Dean.” Sam called. He reached out, and kicked the back of Dean’s seat, which made Dean glance back annoyed. But Dean turned the music down. “I’m…I’m hungry Dean.” Sam admitted, looking down at the floor.

Dean’s annoyance turned into understandment, and he gave a nod before turning back to the road. “We’ll be getting off at the next exit anyway. Think you can hold on for a few more minutes?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Sam said. He quieted down, listening to the music and Dean’s voice. Memories of life before came swirling back, and Sam wanted to sink in the seat.

 

When Dean finally stopped, he turned to look back at Sam.

“Sammy.” Dean said, and Sam looked up at his brother. “I’m gonna untie you before we go in this diner…but you gotta promise you won’t do anything stupid.”

Sam nodded silently and looked back down at the floor, making Dean roll his eyes.

Sam listened to Dean get out and open the back door, undoing the ropes on Sam’s ankles and thighs.

Dean helped Sam sit up and he undid Sam’s wrists.

“Come on Sammy. Let’s get some grub.” A hand curled around Sam’s bicep and Dean led the two of them into the diner.

 

“She’s staring at you Sam.” Dean growled.

“Dean, it’s nothing. Don’t worry. We’re gonna get out of the diner and we’ll be on our way to wherever you want.” Sam said, trying his best to make sure Dean didn’t add another person to his list of kills. “Listen, don’t worry about her. I won’t pay any attention to the waitress.”

“Sammy…you’re mine. People need to understand that. And those who don’t…”

“Dean. It’s OK. We’re never gonna see her again. Don’t worry.”

Dean looked over at Sam, studying Sam carefully before leaning over the table, grabbing Sam, and crashing their lips together.

It took Sam by surprise, and his eyes widened, mouth dropping open, and Dean’s tongue slid inside Sam’s mouth.

Sam tried to pull back, but one of Dean’s hands shot up and curled around the nape of Sam’s neck, keeping him in place.

After a few moments, Dean pulled back. “Mine.” He growled, settling in his seat.

The waitress didn’t try to flirt with Sam anymore.

 

Dean and Sam were walking back to the car when Dean spoke up.

“Sam…let me see your phone.” Dean held his hand out as they walked.

“Why?” Sam asked.

“Because I want to use it.” Dean said, turning to Sam. “Get it before I do.”

Sam kept his breathing level, acting as if everything was normal, and reached into his pocket, like nothing was wrong.

“Umm…” Sam trailed off, looking down. “Dean…”

“What?” Dean asked, frowning. “Sam, stop fucking stalling.”

“I’m not!” Sam insisted, looking up. “My phone…it’s gone. It must have fallen out of my pocket back at the bar.” Sam flinched when Dean glared. “I’m sorry.” It came out tiny and small.

“Doesn’t matter. We’ll get you a new one if we have to.” Dean sighed. They walked over to the passenger’s side of the Impala and Dean looked up at Sam. “Sam…you have a choice here…tied up in the front, or tied in the back. Pick one.”

“Front.” Sam mumbled. He’d rather be able to see where they were going instead of lying down in the back, just seeing sky.

“Fine. Get in.” Dean said, opening the door. Sam climbed into the Impala, and he felt a stray tear slip at the memories of the car that he knew as his home.

“Sammy?” Dean said, crouching so he could look Sam in the eyes. He wiped away the tear, and planted a soft kiss on Sam’s lips. “Everything will be OK. We’re together again, after so long.” The pad of Dean’s thumb swiped against Sam’s cheek, and Sam gave a small nod.

Dean gave a hopeful smile and shut Sam’s door, moving around to the other side and grabbing the rope. He settled in the driver’s seat, and turned to Sam, scooting as close as he could. “Life your legs up.”

Sam obeyed silently and he watched at Dean tied his ankles and thighs together again.

“Hands behind your back.” Dean said.

“Can I have them in front of me, Dean? Please?” Sam asked. Dean froze and debated, before he nodded. He leaned over and tied Sam’s wrists together before tying the rope to small handle on the door.

Then he settled again in his seat, turned on the Impala and drove off.

 

They had been driving all day, taking pit stops here and there.

“Have you been keeping in touch with anyone?” Dean asked.

“No, not really.” Sam said.

“Then why did you still have a phone, after you left Stanford?” Dean asked.

“I was thinking about maybe finding a hunt, and I’m gonna need to keep in contact with people if I’m pretending to be a fed.” Sam shrugged. Dean gave Sam a look of disbelief, and panic shot through Sam. “I’m not in college anymore, Dean.” “And there’s always a person that needs to get saved now and then, so why not?” Sam turned to look at Dean. “Were…were you still planning to hunt?”

“Don’t know Sammy.” Dean shrugged. “Now that we’re together again…it won’t matter what we do.”

“Right.” Sam said. “Where are we going, Dean?”

“I have this small place that I found back in Nebraska. We’re gonna live there.”

“Live? We’re not going to be traveling around anymore?” Sam asked.

“Why bother? It’ll be good to have a home.” _You mean it’ll be good to have a place to keep an eye on me._

“I guess so.” Sam said. He quieted down, and silently stared out of the window.

 

It was nightfall when they got into Nebraska, and Dean pulled up to another diner to eat some dinner.

“Come on Sammy.” Dean said, untying Sam, and moving around to meet Sam as he opened the passenger door.

Dean and Sam walked into the diner, Dean closer to Sam than usual, which was saying something.

Sam quickly figured out what Dean was doing. He was making sure the people in the diner knew they were together.

They sat down at a table and a waiter came to serve them.

 

Dean didn’t say anything about the waiter serving them, but Sam knew he was stewing in his seat.

“Dean…” Sam sighed, not wanting to start this again.

“Don’t. Just, don’t start on that.” Dean ordered.

Sam shut up.

 

While they ate, Dean started talking, asking Sam different things.

“Why were you going to college? What were you studying?”

“I…I was studying to be a lawyer.” Sam admitted. “I was good at it.”

“A lawyer, huh? Still defending people even if you aren’t killing monsters now.” Dean chuckled. “When did you get the acceptance letter?” Dean asked.

“About a week before you were arrested. I was trying to figure out a good time to tell you and Dad, but whatever.” Sam shrugged.

“Huh. Did you keep in contact with Bobby during all that time?” Dean asked.

 _Every single day._ “Not really. I mean, at the beginning we talked, but the more I focused on a normal life, the more I just kinda cut off all connections to my old one. But I guess it doesn’t really matter anymore.”

“Bobby’s gonna know I’m out of jail.” Dean mused lightly, taking a bite of burger. “Do you think he’ll put out a warning about me to other hunters?”

 _He already has._ “I don’t know.” Sam shrugged. “Maybe. I haven’t seen him since…that night.”

“Yeah…right.” Dean nodded. They ate in silence, and Sam noted how their waiter was on their table whenever they needed something.

“OK…it’s time to go.” Sam said finally, not wanting Dean to lose it in the diner. _Don’t let him kill the waiter. Please, don’t let Dean kill him._ Dean dropped money on the table and the two walked away and back to the Impala.

 

“I wouldn’t keep moving if I were you.” A voice said.

Dean and Sam turned to see a man with a shot gun in his hand.

“Who the fuck are you?” Dean asked.

“Friend of Bobby’s. That’s all you need to know.”

“Look Sammy…Bobby did tell other hunters about me. I feel famous.” Dean grinned cockily.

“More like infamous. Let the kid leave, and you and I are going to have a _long_ talk.”

“Is that supposed to scare me?” The smile left and Dean scoffed, taking a step forward. “Are _you_ supposed to scare me? Because you’re not.” He continued taking step after step.

“I swear, Dean, if you don’t back up now, I’m gonna shoot.” The hunter claimed.

“I’d like to see you try.” Dean laughed.

With that, Dean moved quickly, aiming to tackle the hunter to the ground.

“Run, Sam!” The hunter yelled. Sam took off, footsteps beating down the pavement.

Sam managed to get some distance before a sharp, short cry pierced the air.

“Sammy!” Dean yelled. Sam froze on the spot, but he was afraid to turn around. “Don’t take another step, Sam.” Dean ordered.

“What will you do if I run?” Sam called back, voice carrying to Dean.

“Turn around and see.” Dean said.

Sam didn’t want to, oh god, he didn’t want to. But he had to. So he turned and saw the nameless hunter pinned on the ground, Dean on top of him.

Sam’s breath caught in his throat as he saw a knife at the man’s throat. The knife looked scarily like Dean’s old one.

_Dad probably died from that knife._

“Dean…no…” Sam said, taking half a step forward.

“No, Sam…” The hunter began. Dean growled and pressed the knife closer to the man’s throat.

“Sammy…you’re not running anywhere. I’m not losing you again.”

“Don’t kill him, Dean. Don’t do it.” Sam begged.

“Sam! Run!” The hunter yelled.

“Talk one more time, you’re dead.” Dean growled.

“Dean…I’ll come back. Don’t kill him. Don’t kill another person. Please.” Sam couldn’t let any more people died. Not because of him. If that meant that he was going to have to give in to Dean…then so be it. “I won’t fight Dean. I promise.” Sam took slow steps forward until he was only a few feet away from Dean and the hunter.

The hunter’s eyes were questioning. _Why are you doing this? Why did you stay? Why? Why? Why?_

Sam looked away ashamed. “I’m sorry. I won’t have any more blood spilt because of me.” He whispered out.

Dean released the hunter from his grip, but he kept the knife on the man.

“You don’t want me to kill him, Sam? I won’t kill him if you get in the car.”

“OK.” Sam said brokenly. He turned and started a slow walk to the car, his shoulders slumped.

“Sam, no…” The hunter tried to get up and fight Dean again. Sam heard the scuffle and his heart stopped.

“Dean! No!” Sam cried, spinning around. He watched as Dean slit the hunter’s throat, no compassion or mercy registering in his face. Sam’s legs trembled and gave out, and he collapsed in a crumpled heap on the pavement.

Dean was on him in an instant, and Sam was too damn tired to fight Dean. So instead he cried.

“You didn’t have to, Dean. You could’ve knocked him out. You didn’t have to kill him.” Sam cried in Dean’s arms.

“I did.” Dean said, surprisingly calm, despite what happened moments ago. “That’s what happens to people who try to get in our way, Sam.”

“No…” Sam whimpered. “No…”

 

Dean sat there for a minute, cradling Sam, until he helped him up, and led him to the car. He got Sam inside and bound him again, before turning to loot the dead hunter. Once Dean finished, he dragged the body into the shrubbery.

Dean got in the Impala and drove off, examining the hunter’s phone.

He saw Bobby’s number and he called it, turning the speaker on.

The phone rang twice before Bobby picked up.

“Tim? Tim, do you have news?” Bobby asked.

“Is that was his name was?” Dean asked. “Huh.”

“Dean? Damnit! Where’s Tim, you bastard?” Bobby demanded.

“Wow, Bobby. That’s a way to great way to greet someone you haven’t seen for years.” Dean said.

“Where is he!?” Bobby yelled.

“Dead.” Dean said simply.

“Damnit, Dean!” Bobby swore.

“Hey, got someone else here that you might enjoy hearing. Isn’t that right, Sammy?” Dean asked, glancing at his younger brother.

“Sam?” Bobby asked, a little weakly.

“Hey, Bobby. It’s nice to hear your voice after so long.” _Dean couldn’t know about Bobby. Dean couldn’t know about Bobby. Dean couldn’t know about Bobby._

“Same goes to you, Sam.” Bobby said. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Sam said.

“Yep. I wouldn’t dare hurt Sammy. You know that, Bobby. So how many hunters have you warned about me?” Dean asked.

“None of your business.” Bobby growled.

“You see, Bobby…it slightly is. If you pulled an APB on me for hunters to know about, I’m gonna want to know how many hunters know about it. Need to take the precautionary measures for me and Sam, you know.”

“Let him go, Dean.” Bobby said. “Please.”

“No.” Dean said.

“Dean…” Bobby growled frustrated. “Sam…we’re gonna find you.”

“Good luck with that. Bye, Bobby.” Dean said.

“Damnit, De-” Bobby’s voice got cut off and Dean tossed the phone out of the window.

“Well then…how about we get to my place, alright?”

 

The ride seemed endless, but finally Dean brought Sam to a small place in a wooded area, away from the road.

“This is yours?” Sam asked.

“Yep.” Dean nodded proudly. He untied Sam and the two got out of the car. “Come on, Sammy.” Dean brought Sam inside the house and Sam looked around.

It did look homely, it honestly did. But the thought that Sam might be trapped here…the thought made him want to vomit.

“Come on Sam. I bet you’re worn out. Let’s get some sleep.”

Dean led Sam into a bedroom with a queen sized bed. _I wonder who Dean killed for this house._

Dean started stripping out of his clothes, and Sam took a few steps back, scared and thinking the worst.

“Sammy, what is it? I sleep in my boxers.” Dean said.

“Oh…OK.” Sam said. There was no way he was stripping down in front of Dean, or stripping at all for that matter. Sam crawled into the bed and as close to the edge as he could get.

“Sam.” Dean sighed, climbing into the bed as well. “It’s a queen, Sam. You have room.”

“I want to sleep here, Dean.” Sam said, curling up under the sheets. “Good night.” As scared as he was, he found sleep fast when he closed his eyes.

“Night, Sam.” Dean rolled his eyes and fell asleep as well.

 

_“Dean! Dean! I have a date with Christina Blaine!” Sam cried out happily as he bound into the hotel room. “An actual girl wants to go out on a date with me!” Sam’s teenage hormones were running through him excitedly._

_They were going to be stuck in this place for another month or so, so of course Sam had accepted the date._

_“Why bother?” Dean asked with a scoff, annoyed. “We’re not going to be staying here. So why would you want to crush the girl’s spirits when you go?”_

_“But…I…she knows that we’re going to leave in the future. I said Dad has one of those jobs that makes us move a lot. And she still wanted to go out on a date with me. You date a bunch of girls when we move around. Why is it bad for me to have a date with this one?” Sam asked, angry at Dean._

_“It’s different.” Dean growled. He got up and left out of the hotel, leaving an angry Sam, who dropped on the couch and flipped the TV on._

_Dean had acted differently the whole week leading up to Sam’s date with Christina._

_When Sam finally did go out on his date, and came back beaming, Dean left the motel again._

_Christina was reported missing the next day, and from the looks of it, it was caused by the monster that Dad was hunting._

_At least that was what Dean told Sam._

When Sam woke, he was in the middle of the bed, shirt and pants gone. Sam could feel Dean’s mouth working up and down his back.

“Dean! What are you doing?!” Sam said, trying to pull away. Dean caught Sam and pulled him flat on the bed, shifting so he could straddle Sam.

“Hey, Sammy. Rise and shine.” Dean smiled softly, leaning down and kissing Sam.

Sam pushed Dean away. “Stop it.” Sam said.

“No.” Dean said, pulling Sam’s arms over his head and pinning them down with a hand. “I have been searching for you for so long Sam. Now that we are together, I’m gonna do what I want.”

He leaned down and kissed Sam rougher, nipping at Sam’s lower lip.

“Dean!” Sam said, when Dean pulled away. Sam tried bucking Dean off, but it didn’t help. “Stop.” Sam begged, softer.

Dean ignored Sam and started kissing along Sam’s jawline and neck. “Am I gonna have to restrain you?” Dean asked.

“Restrain me? Why?” Sam asked, eyes locking with Dean’s.

Dean’s free hand went down to trail around Sam’s waistband of his boxers, and Sam realized what Dean intended.

“Dean…no…don’t, please, don’t.” Sam said, squirming and bucking under Dean.

“Guess that answers my question.” Dean sighed. Dean started climbing off Sam, going to retrieve some rope for Sam’s wrists, when Sam pushed Dean off him and started to scurry off the bed.

“Oh no, you don’t. You said you wouldn’t fight.” Dean growled, tackling Sam face-first on the bed.

“And you said you wouldn’t kill that hunter!” Sam bit out. He started bucking again, and Dean grounded his aching shaft into Sam’s ass, making Sam freeze underneath Dean.

“That got your attention, huh?” Dean asked, voice low. “You feel it, Sammy?” He ground into Sam’s ass again. “That cock is all for you. It’s gonna feel so good shoved up your ass.”

A sob escaped Sam’s mouth, and he closed his eyes. It didn’t stop the tears that ran down.

“Sammy.” Dean said soothingly. “Sammy, baby. It’s gonna be OK. It won’t hurt. I’m gonna make sure of that.”

“No.” Sam shook his head, sobbing. “No, Dean.”

“Shh…shh, Sammy. I’m gonna take care of you.” Dean said, wiping the tears from Sam’s face.

 

Dean moved and got some rope, smiling when he saw Sam hadn’t moved.

“Come on, Sam, back to the middle of the bed.” Dean said.

Sam whimpered and curled up into a ball, as tight as he could get.

“Sam, move.” Dean said.

“No.” Sam said, broken and scared.

“ _Move_.” Dean ordered, getting mad.

“No!” Sam cried out angrily, turn to Dean. “I won’t let you r-” The word came to a stop in Sam’s throat. He couldn’t say the word. If he did, he was accepting what Dean wanted. And he wasn’t ready for that. “You’re not fucking me.”

Dean growled and lunged at Sam, trying to tackle and pin him to the bed. Sam fought back just as hard. He would fight now. There weren’t any innocent bystanders, so Sam would fight.

Sam threw a punch that got Dean in the jaw.

Dean gave a light laugh. “You’ve gotten stronger since I’ve been away. But it’s not gonna matter Sam. I’m going to get what I want. I always do.”

“Fuck off, Dean.” Sam growled, kneeing Dean in the gut. A _whoosh_ of air left Dean and Sam pushed Dean away, moving as fast as he could to the door.

He was almost there when Dean crashed into him, making Sam collide with the door. Dean tossed Sam to the ground, and leaped at him.

Sam rolled out of the way just in time, and got up, balancing himself on the balls of his feet. Dean got up, standing in a crouched position in front of the door.

“You really think you can just escape again, Sam? There is no way I am letting you leave. Besides…you’re in your boxers.”

Dean was right about that. Sam probably would get arrested for public indecency. But he’d rather be detained in the police station than this prison.

“I’ll take my chances.” Sam said. He started to mentally prep himself to fight off Dean, possibly knock him unconscious. He remembered back to Dad’s training, something he’d never thought he would have to do again.

“Then so be it.” Dean said, rushing at Sam.

 

Sam dodged, and grabbed Dean’s arm, pulling him and sending him crashing into the wall, falling on the floor with a _thump_. It was Sam’s turn to ram into Dean, but Dean was expecting it, hooking a leg around Sam’s knee and pulling Sam down with him.

Sam tried to block and push Dean, as Dean started to move on top of Sam, but Dean’s knee came down hard on Sam’s balls. Sam cried out in pain and started to try to get Dean off, but his knee dug in harder and Dean bound Sam’s wrists together.

“God, Sammy. Are you getting rusty or something?” Dean laughed.

“Get off. Fuck, Dean, get off, please!” Sam groaned in pain. Dean complied and Sam gave a loud sigh of relief.

Dean straddled Sam, and Sam bucked.

“Fuck off.” Sam growled.

“You keep saying that, when in all honesty, I rather fuck you.”

“No!” Sam cried, pulling at his bonds.

“Come on, Sammy. Let’s get you back to the bed.”

“No!” Sam cried out. “No! Fuck, no!” He pulled at the rope twisted around Dean’s fist, and Dean gave a good, solid yank, making Sam fall on the bed, face first.

 

Dean pulled Sam up on the bed and right to the middle. Tears started to run again, and Sam was back to begging and whimpering.

“Stop crying, Sam.” Dean said. “Really. It’s not gonna help anyone.”

“Go fuck yourself, Dean.” Sam said bitterly.

Dean only rolled his eyes, and laid Sam on his back.

“You know…I _was_ gonna give you the option of how you wanted to be faced when I fuck you, but you lost the privilege.” Dean tied the rope to the headboard and patted Sam’s tear-streaked cheek.

He got up and went over to a small chest.

“When I found this place…man, I was excited.” Dean said, grinning as he opened the chest up, looking for something. “I settled right in and put this chest to good use.”

“What’s…what’s in…there?” Sam asked, scared, lightly tugging at his bound wrists. They were tied too well for him to escape from anytime soon.

“Some stuff that I’ve been collecting while I was searching for you.” Dean said. He pulled out a bright red ball gag, and Sam started thrashing on the bed.

“Fuck, no! You’re not gagging me. Fuck you! Go to hell, Dean!”

Dean laughed and walked back over to the bed, pulling out a bottle of lube from the nightstand.

“This is exactly why you’re getting gagged. I would love to hear all those noises, Sammy. Just not the swearing that is personally directed at me.”

“Go to hell.” Sam said again before shutting up.

“Ooh, you know you can’t get rid of me that easily.” Dean smirked. “Open up.”

Sam shook his head and Dean frowned, climbing on the bed and straddling Sam.

“Won’t do any good to fight me on this, Sam.” Dean warned.

Sam gave a shrug and glared up at Dean.

Dean grabbed Sam’s jaw, pressing and squeezing until he forced it open. Sam fought against Dean’s hand, trying to twist his head away, but Dean kept a firm grip, and Sam knew that he was going to be bruised tomorrow.

Dean shoved the ball in Sam’s mouth and quickly buckled it around Sam’s head so Sam couldn’t push it out.

Sam started grunting and yelling out garbled insults, jerking at the bonds.

“No escaping, Sam.” Dean said. “So, how about we take a look at what’s down below?”

 

Sam paled at that, and shook his head, his yelling turning into begging noises and scared whimpers.

Dean went over and retrieved the lube, placing the bottle by Sam. He forced Sam’s legs to open and Dean yanked Sam’s boxers off, smiling, seeing Sam’s cock. He sat down on Sam’s legs, pinning them, and seemed mesmerized by Sam’s length.

“God, it’s beautiful.” Dean murmured, a hand slowly running over Sam’s length.

Sam’s breathing sharpened, and he turned away. Dean gripped Sam’s cock, and started to pump it slowly and steadily.

Sam made a whimper that turned into a moan as Dean thumbed at Sam’s head.

“That feel good, Sam?” Dean asked, as he ran his thumb just under Sam’s cockhead and brushing against the sensitive nerves. “Come on, Sammy. You can tell me the truth.”

Sam shook his head furiously, and gave another moan as Dean started pumping Sam’s cock faster, slightly squeezing at the top.

“Sammy, you don’t have to lie.” Dean said. “I can see how your body’s reacting.”

Sure enough, as Dean spoke Sam’s cock started to slowly harden from Dean’s ministrations. Sam’s body was betraying him in the worst of ways, and Sam was trying hard not to panic.

 

Suddenly, Dean’s hand was gone and his mouth was on Sam’s cock, making Sam groan out. He tugged lightly at the bonds, and wiggled around, trying to escape, but Dean’s hands shot out and pinned Sam’s hips down, while he sucked Sam’s length down, hollowing his cheeks, and tongue running around Sam’s cock.

Sam’s breathing starting increasing, and soon he was panting behind the gag, feeling a strong urge to come.

Sam started releasing high pitched whining noises, every suck Dean gave drawing him that much closer.

When Dean’s mouth left, Sam cried out, not close enough to the edge to tip over, which was now something he needed so badly.

“Don’t want you to come yet. I want to come inside of you first, Sam.” Dean breathed out, taking the lube and pouring an ample amount on his hand. “Sammy, are you a virgin?” Dean asked, as he pressed one finger against Sam’s hole.

Sam whimpered and Dean felt Sam clench up, trying to keep Dean’s finger out.

“Hey, I asked you a question, Sam. I want an answer. Are you a virgin down here?” Dean pressed his finger against Sam’s hole, and he felt the tip slide in. Sam cried out fearfully, and tried to get away, but he couldn’t move under Dean’s weight. “Sam!” Dean yelled harshly.

Sam quieted and stared at Dean with fear filled eyes.

“Answer me, Sam. I need to know so I don’t end up hurting you. Are you a virgin?”

Sam nodded, looking away and down at the floor.

“OK. I promise to be gentle for your first time.” Dean said. He continued to push his finger further in Sam, and Sam whimpered closing his eyes.

“Not gonna hurt you, Sammy. Won’t hurt you.” Dean promised with a soothing voice.

 

Dean started to work his finger in and out of Sam’s channel slowly, getting it to loosen up and ready for another finger.

Sam was trying to ignore the feeling of Dean’s finger and tried to think of something else, but then Dean added a second finger and a slight burning sensation came to Sam’s ass.

“Mmmhp!” Sam cried out around the gag, turning to Dean, who was slowly sliding finger number two in with the first. “Mmh! Mmmh!” Sam shook his head and tried to clench up around Dean’s fingers to get them to stop. Dean gave a small little moan and Sam froze, unclenching, and feeling Dean’s fingers wiggle inside.

Sam’s cock was starting to go down, from fear and lack of attention, until Dean found Sam’s prostate and pressed against it.

Sam cried out loudly and jerked, and Dean started to fuck Sam with his two fingers, moving over Sam’s prostate with each thrust. Dean was starting to scissor and stretch his fingers, and Sam groaned at the small burning sensation that was moving through him.

“Don’t worry. I know it feels funny now, but it’ll get better.” Dean promised, starting to work another finger in.

Sam shook his head, tears running down his cheeks simply from fear. Dean stayed focused on Sam’s channel until he deemed it open enough for Sam to take him.

 

Dean pulled his fingers out and Sam gave a small huff of breath through his nose, feeling strangely empty now that Dean’s fingers weren’t there. He watched Dean pull down his boxers, revealing the hard cock underneath, and Sam pressed himself as far as he could into the headboard.

Dean lubed his cock up, and lined it with Sam’s hole, and Sam closed his eyes, turning his head away.

“I’m telling you now, Sam. It’s gonna feel a little weird at first. And it might burn a little, but I promise that it’ll feel good afterwards, OK?”

Sam made a small broken noise, and kept his head turned.

Dean only rolled his eyes and started to press his cock against Sam’s hole.

Sam whimpered and tried to clench his hole up, but Dean managed to get the head of his cock in before Sam did, and he started to slowly push in.

 

Dean was right, it did feel weird and it did burn a little, and Sam made sure Dean knew his discomfort.

“Shh…Sammy, baby. Just give it a minute.” Dean said soothingly, a hand gently caressing Sam’s right inner thigh. When he bottomed out, he froze, letting Sam get used to the new sensation.

Sam shifted slightly and all he could feel was Dean’s cock filling him up.

“Alright Sammy…nice and slow…” Dean said, rolling his hips slowly and starting a nice, slow pace.

Sam could feel Dean’s cock working in and out of him, every gentle thrust brushing on his prostate, making him pant. One of Dean’s hands went back to Sam’s cock, stroking it in time with each thrust, making Sam give a soft moan.

“Sammy…look at me.” Dean said.

“Mmm…” Sam grunted softly, keeping his head turned from Dean.

“Sam.” Dean said. “Turn to me. Now.”

Sam slowly turned and looked at Dean, eyes puffy and red from all of his crying.

“My baby brother.” Dean breathed out. He leaned over and nipped Sam’s bottom lip before pulling back and increasing the pace a little. It wasn’t enough to be considered fast, but Sam noticed the difference, and he gave a moan.

“There’s a pretty noise.” Dean murmured, hips rolling. “Fuck, Sam. If you could only understand what you mean to me.” He could feel his orgasm rising in him, and he groaned happily. “God, Sammy…you feel so good around my cock. Fuck…” Dean grunted, and he tipped over into an orgasm.

Sam cried out as he felt Dean’s come hit his inner walls, and suddenly the leisurely strokes on Sam’s cock, became fast, Dean pumping Sam’s cock.

“Gonna come for me, Sammy? Gonna come for your older brother?”

Even as Dean said it, Sam could feel himself coming closer and closer to an orgasm. Sam shook his head and Dean gave a breathy laugh.

“Don’t lie, Sammy. I know you’re close. So just come for me.”

And Sam did.

 

After Dean pulled out, he left to a bathroom and brought back a damp towel, cleaning Sam up.

“You did good, Sammy.” Dean said, releasing the gag from Sam’s mouth.

“Fuck off, you bastard.” Sam choked out in a sob. Sam curled away from Dean, and Dean sighed, forcing Sam’s legs apart again, so he could clean the come that was seeping out of Sam’s ass.

“Call me what you want, Sam. But I’m still your older brother. And you’re still mine. Like you always have been.”

Sam kicked out and got Dean in the hand, making Dean jerk back and swear.”

“Fuck, Sam.” Dean muttered, nursing his hurt hand. “Bitch.”

Sam turned away. Dean said the one word that was almost like their sacred oath. Only now, Sam didn’t have the strength to say his line. Honestly, how could he? Dean had betrayed him. Betrayed everyone they ever knew really. Sam couldn’t bring himself to say the word that was to follow.

 

Dean made a hurt noise when Sam didn’t talk. And then Sam heard Dean get dressed quickly and leave.

He turned, panicked. Dean couldn’t leave him here. He couldn’t.

“Dean? Dean! Come back! Please, don’t leave me tied up! Dean!” Sam called. Dean didn’t come and Sam tugged futilely at his bonds. “Dean!”

 

Dean walked out of the room, and out of the house, wincing ever time he heard Sam yell for him. He wanted to go back in the room. Wanted to fuck Sammy again because, god, Sammy felt so good. But if Sam was going to yell insults and be hurtful, then Dean had to teach him a lesson.

So this was him, teaching Sam a lesson.

He got in the Impala and turned it on, backing out of the driveway and on the road, turning on the radio for once instead of some of his music.

“…was found outside of a diner early this morning…”

Dean turned up the volume and listened to the news report about the dead Joe outside of the diner he and Sam ate at. Dean smiled, and then he heard the voice of the waiter that served them, talking about how he was finishing up his shifts and when he went out, he found the man in the bushes.

Dean’s grip on the steering wheel tightened and the smile faded as he thought about last night and the waiter whose eyes were on Sam 24/7.

Sam was his. No. One. Else’s. He didn’t belong to any of the girls that he had dates with. Not the blonde girl from his college _(what was her name? Jade? Jess? What did it matter? She was dead)_. Sammy didn’t belong to any of the people that gave him too-friendly smiles, or stared at him for too long. He didn’t belong to the waiter at the diner. Sam was _his_.

So Dean started to drive back to the diner, planning to find the waiter.

He was going to have some fun with him.

 

At the diner, he flashed smile and big green eyes, finding out where the waiter _(Donny was his name)_ was. Dean shoved his hands in his jacket pocket, feeling the syringe filled with the sedative he had used on Sammy earlier. If it worked for Sam, it would work for this.

Donny was around the back of the diner, smoking. His back was turned towards Dean, and Dean smiled like a wolf.

He snuck up behind Donny and had the man pinned in less than five seconds.

“Hey! What the fuck?” Donny turned his head to see Dean above him. “You! You were here last night!”

“I was. And so was Sam. You remember Sam, right?”

“Y-yeah. The guy you were with. Look, dude, get off of me.”

“What did you think of Sam? I want the full truth.”

“What, dude-”

“Tell me!” Dean shouted.

“OK! OK…well…he was…he was friendly. Nice on the eyes. Pretty good looking. Really tall.” Donny said.

“Did you want him?” Dean growled.

“Wh-”

“Answer. The fucking. Question.” Dean growled. “Did you want Sam? Want him to come home with you? Wanted to fuck him?”

“I…please, just let me go.”

Dean pulled out his knife from his inner jacket. “You don’t answer my question and I’m gonna kill you right here.”

Donny’s eyes widened. “Yes! I wanted Sam. I wanted to take him home with me.”

“You had dirty thoughts of Sam?”

“Yes.” Donny whimpered.

Dean put his knife away and pulled out the syringe, pressing it in Donny’s neck, and pressing down the plunger.

“Well, Sam is mine. Not yours.” Dean growled, while Donny lost consciousness.

 

Sam’s throat was sore and raw from all the screaming he had done, hearing Dean turn the Impala on and drive away.

He had no idea what Dean was going to do when he did finally get back, and Sam was scared. His wrists were in pain from tugging them so much, and by now Sam understood that there was no way he could get them loose from the rope. Whatever his fate was was sealed.

When he heard the Impala come in the driveway, he cried out for Dean, wanting to get out of the bonds.

“De’! Dean! Please come back! Let me out, please!” Sam cried out.

A few minutes later, he heard shuffling, but it was moving away from him. Whatever Dean was doing, it was on the other side of the house.

“Dean!” Sam cried as loud as he could. “Please!”

It was only a few minutes later when Dean came walking in the room.

“Sammy.” Dean said, climbing on the bed.

“Dean, please let me go. Please.” Sam cried softly, throat hurting.

“You hurt yourself.” Dean murmured, inspecting Sam’s red, swollen wrists. “Sam. You do not hurt yourself. Ever.”

“I’m sorry.” Sam cried. “I’m sorry, Dean.” He felt Dean release his hands and they dropped heavily into Sam’s lap.

Dean helped Sam get feeling back in his arms and he left to get some bandages for Sam’s wrists.

Sam was too tired to try to run.

“You’re staying put.” Dean observed when he came back with a med kit. “Does this mean you’re ready to behave?”

Sam turned away and Dean sighed. “Guess it’s just a spur of the moment thing, huh?” Dean said, beginning to clean and wrap Sam’s wrists up.

“Where’d you go?” Sam asked, voice wrecked and quiet.

“Out.” Dean said with a shrug. “I’m gonna get you some tea and some medicine to help sooth your throat and wrists. Do you want something to eat? I can whip you up a sandwich.”

“I can make it myself.” Sam said.

“No. You’re gonna stay right here. Get a shower or something, watch some TV. Relax. OK?”

“What are you going to do?” Sam asked.

“I need to deal with something.” Dean said.

That caught Sam’s attention. “Deal? Dean what are you gonna do?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Dean smiled, leaving to put the med kit away. “And don’t even _think_ about trying to escape this room, or I’m gonna tie you up again.” Dean said, shutting the door.

Sam moved to it in a heartbeat, but found the thing locked. He turned and went back to the bed and collapsed on it, tired and in pain.

Dean returned with the things he promised and set them on the nightstand.

“I’ll be right back Sam.” Dean said, leaving the room again.

Sam didn’t bother checking the door again. He knew it was locked.

 

Dean went to the basement that the house had. He had tied Donny up in a chair, and he was beginning to regain consciousness.

Dean ripped off a piece of duct tape and placed it over Donny’s mouth.

“Nice to see you’re coming to, Don.” Dean said, leaning on the wall. “I’m gonna have some fun with you. Usually, I don’t gag my victims. But Sammy is just upstairs in our room, and I don’t want to upset him anymore than he already is.”

As Donny grew more and more aware of his surroundings, he whimpered, pulling at the bonds keeping his wrists, legs, and stomach tied to the chair.

“No. You’re not getting out. You shouldn’t have thought about Sammy. _My Sammy_. You shouldn’t have given him all those looks. You shouldn’t have tried to flirt with him. You shouldn’t have _thought_ about him. But you did, and you’re gonna pay for it. I’m gonna make sure of that. Gotta get my tools though. They’re in my baby…I’ll be right back.”

Dean turned and left up the steps, with Donny screaming as loud as he could behind him.

Dean just started humming a Led Zeppelin song as he went out to the Impala and to the trunk, grabbing the bag of devices he had, enjoying the clink he heard of metal on metal.

When he walked back in the house, he sighed, hearing the faint screams of Donny. Damn, he wished he could listen to each ear-piercing scream. But Sammy was stuck in the other room, and the kid already had enough on his plate to get adjusted to without having to hear someone else’s screams.

When Dean walked back downstairs, he placed the bag on a table by the wall.

Donny struggled against the bonds, but he couldn’t get free. Dean turned to the table and started pulling out the different devices he had, placing them on the table.

Listening to Donny’s whimpers and sobs almost made Dean laugh.

“Buddy…you ain’t getting out of this one.” Dean said, picking a short knife up and walking over to the man.

Donny started to scream again, seeing the knife, and Dean gave a dangerous smile. Dean quickly sliced Donny’s clothing off and examined his playing field.

“Have a nice body, Donny. Truly, it might actually be a shame to cut you up.” Dean grinned. He slowly dragged the knife deeply down Donny’s chest and watched in glee as Donny screamed in the duct tape. “Those are the sounds I like to here.” Dean growled as he cut another stripe across Donny’s chest.

Donny struggled to move, but couldn’t escape. There was nowhere he could go. He screamed again as Dean dragged the knife down his arms, and watched with glee as Donny’s blood dripped onto the floor.

Dean laughed as he rolled his eyes, moving back to the table, putting the knife down and come back with smaller, sharper knife.

Dean walked back over and gripped Donny’s hair, yanking his head back. Donny cried out from the pain of the pull and Dean gave another laugh.

“Donny…if you think _that_ hurts…then I have news for you. This pain is _nothing_ compared to what you’ll be in when I’m done with you.”

 

Sam was lounging on the bed, with nothing to do. He had already seen if he could find something to pick the lock on the door, but there was nothing.

When Sam flipped on the TV and surfed around, he landed on a news station that was covering the story about the dead man outside of a diner, and Sam was pretty sure he was going to be sick from it.

Sam had already eaten the food and drank the tea that Dean had given him, but he wasn’t taking the meds. He didn’t care if Dean wanted him to take them. Sam didn’t see them come from the bottle, he had no idea what they would actually do, so he wasn’t taking them.

Then Sam heard the screaming.

 

It was so faint that, at first, he thought he was just hearing things. But then he heard it again and again. But it was so faint…

Sam moved to the door and pressed his ear against the wood, listening as well as he could.

Sure enough…there was another faint scream.

“No…no!” Sam cried out as loud as he could _(which wasn’t that loud since he wrecked his voice)_. “Damnit, Dean. What are you doing?” Sam sunk down to his knees and hit the door in anguish. Dean, somewhere, was _killing another person_ , just because they had batted an eye in Sam’s direction.

Sam felt the bile rise in his throat and he almost didn’t make it to the toilet before he threw up his breakfast.

Afterwards, he just got into the shower, trying to ignore the fact that Dean was hurting yet another person just because saw Sam.

 

Dean stepped back to the table to examine the masterpiece that he made out of Donny. By this point, Donny was more ribbons than person.

Blood was everywhere. It was covering Donny, Dean, the floor, and so many of Dean’s tools. Donny’s head was hanging low, and if you listened carefully enough, you could still hear him giving small whimpers. If you looked carefully enough, you could still see him breathing shallowly.

Dean pulled his knife out of his jacket. As much as he loved to torture with his tools, his knife was always the thing that would be the fatal blow for anyone that got in his way.

“Well, Donny…gotta say. I thought you looked good before, well now you look fucking fantastic. Red really suits you, bud.”

“S-sorry…so sorry…p-please…” It was so quiet, Dean almost didn’t hear it.

“Sorry? What for, Don?” Dean asked, crouching so he was level with the almost-dead man. “Tell me.”

“F-for…looking…” Donny managed to get out.

“For looking? You mean at my Sammy?”

“Yes.” Donny said.

“I’m glad you understand your error, Donny.” Dean said.

“Please…kill me…pain…hurts too much.” Donny begged quietly.

“I plan too, Donny.” Dean said, getting up. He pulled Donny’s head back and gave the final blow, watching with glee as the light went out of Donny’s eyes. He let Donny’s head drop forward and he wiped his blade off on his jacket, before placing it back.

He untied Donny and wrapped the body up in a clear plastic sheet, lifting the body up and bringing it outside, away from the house so he could burn the body.

He didn’t want Sammy asking questions after all.

 

When Dean came back in the house, he went back to the basement and started washing off his tools in the small sink that was in the room.

He washed off his hands and face of the blood that was drying and took his knife out of his jacket, before stripping down and bringing his clothing to the laundry room and tossing them in the washing machine.

He reached in the dryer, grabbing some new clothes, wondering how Sam was doing in the room. When he walked inside, he saw Sam curled up on the bed, back facing the door.

“Hey, Sammy. You OK?” Dean asked, walking over to his brother. He looked at the table to see everything but the medicine was taken. “You didn’t take the meds I gave you?”

“No. I don’t need them.” Sam murmured, not turning to face Dean.

“Sam, dude, what’s wrong?” Dean stared as Sam tried to curl into an even tighter ball than he already was in.

“I could hear.” Sam said.

“Hear what, Sam?”

“ _The screams._ I could hear the fucking screams, Dean.” Sam turned to face Dean angrily. “You thought you had them blocked? You didn’t. They were so faint, I thought I was crazy, but I could _hear_ them.”

Dean didn’t say anything.

“Who’d you kill this time, Dean?” Sam asked, sounding more broken than angry. “Who?”

“Guy from the diner.” Dean said, shrugging off the news Sam just gave him, and lounging with him on the bed. Sam’s face dropped and he scooted away, making Dean rolled his eyes again. Sam didn’t notice Dean’s expression.

“I think I’m gonna be sick again.” Sam muttered.

“What? You got sick?” Dean asked, looking at Sam concerned. “When?”

“When I knew you were killing someone.” Sam said, moving away again as Dean started to move over to him.

 

Dean moved quickly and pulled Sam underneath him.

“I only killed him because he wanted what was mine.” Dean’s voice dropped lower, and he grounded his crotch into Sam’s.

Sam whimpered and tried to pull away, but Dean kept a firm grip on him, rolling his hips and rubbing against Sam, until he could feel Sam start to grow hard.

“Your body is contradicting your mind, Sammy.” Dean murmured as he leaned down to lick and nibble at the shell of Sam’s ear.

“Get. Off.” Sam gritted out.

“Not until I get you to come in your pants.” Dean whispered, his hand dropping down to knead Sam’s cock and balls through his pants.

Sam gave a soft whine through his teeth, and Dean gave a breathy laugh, growing hard himself. He started to nip and give light sucks to Sam’s jaw and neck. Not hard enough to mark, but enough that it would tingle there for a little while.

“Mine.” Dean whispered against Sam’s skin. “My Sammy. My baby brother. Only mine. Always mine.”

Sam struggled against Dean, and every time he thought that he’d get away, Dean pushed him down and pinned him back on the bed.

His hand never let up from Sam’s crotch, the kneading increasing, making Sam pant and his breathing increase.

“De’…no…stop. Please. Oh, god.” Sam grunted as the urge to come back stronger.

“Just come for me Sam. I’ll stop when you come.” Dean said. “I’ll suck your cock if I have to.” Dean murmured.

“No…I…jeez…fuck. Dean…st-fuck… _fuck_!” Sam cried out as he came in his pants. Dean pulled back with a smile and unzipped himself, pulling his own cock out and aiming for Sam’s face.

He started jacking himself off, head dropping, and moans coming out of his mouth.

“Sam…Sammy…” He looked down at Sam with wide, lust-blown eyes. “God, Sammy…fuck…gonna come. Gonna mark that pretty face of yours.” Dean moaned softly.

Sam tried to protest, but Dean came at that moment, moaning Sam’s name, with come splattering Sam’s face. Dean watched as his pearly strings of come ran down the sides of Sam’s face. It hit his forehead, nose, cheeks. Dean watched as some of his come landed in Sam’s open mouth, and his hand moved quickly to cover Sam’s mouth before he could spit it out.

“Swallow it.” Dean ordered. Sam tried to shake his head and pull Dean’s hands off, but Dean growled. “ _Swallow_.” He pressed his hand further against Sam’s mouth and he watched as Sam’s throat work and swallow the come that landed inside. “Good boy.” Dean said, moving his hand away and forcing Sam’s mouth open to inspect it. “Good.” Dean smiled.

He leaned down and kissed Sam, sucking on Sam’s lower lip and tasting the salty tang of himself. Dean started to lick up all traces of himself on Sam’s face, leaving a wet trail in its wake. He ended on Sam’s lips again, and Dean gave a few ruts and a possessive growl when Sam tried to move.

“Sammy, please stop fighting me. It’ll make everything so much easier.”

“Dean…” Sam closed his eyes, tired of begging and pleading. “I can’t stop, Dean. Not if this is how you want my life to be.” Sam opened his eyes to see Dean frowning. “And besides, do you think you’ll be able to hide me forever? Bobby’s has friends. They’ll be looking. Bobby’ll be looking. You killed a hunter, Dean. People are going to take that personally.”

“Then I’ll kill then too, if they try to keep us apart.” Dean said.

“What if it’s Bobby that finds us? Would you kill him? Would you?” Sam asked.

“If I have to.” Dean said firmly.

“God, Dean! How far off the deep end have you gone?” Sam asked.

“Far enough that I don’t care anymore.” Dean growled. “As long as I have you…nothing matters. I’ve killed before to make sure we stay together…and I’ll gladly kill again if I feel it’s threatened.” Dean gripped Sam’s hair, pulling back to expose Sam’s neck.

Sam cried out, and before he could stop Dean, Dean had his lips latched around Sam’s neck, sucking and biting.

“I’ll do anything to keep you under my protection, Sammy. To keep you _mine_.” Dean murmured when he pulled back. “And if that means killing some hunters then so be it.” Dean said, hand trailing around the mark he made on Sam’s neck. “And I recommend you don’t make me do anything that I’ll regret.”

“Regret? What do you mean?” Sam asked.

“Like if you try to leave me again.” Dean said, locking gazes with Sam, green eyes flashing. “I’m sure I can find a couple of spells to keep you bound here. Bound to me.”

Sam’s eyes grew in fear at what Dean was implying.

“I won’t look for any if I don’t have to, Sammy. Don’t make me have to.”

“Dean…” Sam said, his voice breaking. “I…” He closed his eyes, understanding completely and fully just how fucked he was. How fucked he’d always will be. He was a Winchester. Winchester’s lives were never easy, so why would his be simple? Sam opened his eyes and looked up at his big brother with watery eyes. “OK, Dean…fine. You…you win. You win.”

“Knew you see it my way, Sammy.” Dean murmured happily, nuzzling into Sam’s neck, over the mark. “I’m gonna take a quick shower, OK?”

“Yeah, Dean. OK.” Sam said. Dean got off of Sam, and walked into the bathroom. Sam felt too broken to even move.

 

That night, Dean watched Sam sleep. He had to give him more of the sedative that night, something Sam wasn’t happy about, but he was asleep now, and all was good in Dean’s world. He had his baby brother, and that was all that mattered.

No one would stop him from staying away from Sam. He had figured he had proven himself with all of the people he’s ganked over the years.

All the girls Sam has dated. Dad. The blonde bitch from Sam’s college. Oh, and now two more people were added to the list. Donny the waiter, and Tim the hunter. No one has stopped him. Not even the people at the jail, and now that Dean thought about it, his escaped involved one or two deaths from some of the guards. Not to mention the guy he killed for this house.

But Sammy didn’t need to know about those deaths.

God, how they had screamed so prettily when Dean killed then. Even Dad, a rough, tough hunter had cried out like a child before he died. Dean gave a small chuckle, thinking back on everything.

“All for you, Sammy. All for you.” He murmured, moving over to his sleeping brother. “I love you, Sammy. I’ll never ever leave you.” He pressed himself against Sam protectively, wrapping an arm around Sam’s chest, feeling his heart _thump_. “You’ll love it here. I’ll show you. I promise.” Dean murmured, falling asleep himself.


End file.
